


Star Wars Drabble Collection

by missmollyetc



Series: Drabble Collection [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Gen, M/M, Time Travel, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5752114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmollyetc/pseuds/missmollyetc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Star Wars Drabbles, ficlets, and tumblr prompts.  Warnings will be in individual chapters' notes, and pairings, characters, etc listed as Chapter Titles.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(I decided it was a better idea to split my Star Wars work from where I originally had it in Misc. Fic Prompts, as I expect to be writing more of them in future.  ...I probably just jinxed myself, but oh well!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Star Wars: CC-2224| Commander Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for urentirelifeisgarbage

"...so how exactly did your lightsaber get stuck in there?"[1]

The sharp, rhythmic clanking that had been ringing out slowly for the past five minutes stopped abruptly. Cody cleared his throat. 

"Sir," he added quickly. General Kenobi was far more lax than General Windu had been about decorum regs, but Cody didn't want to give his latest commanding officer the impression that he was lazy. When word had come down that Cody was going to be assigned to Kenobi after Skor II, Captain Alpha-17 _himself_ had made sure he understood the honor. Well, "he's a crazy karking bastard, but don't let him get himself sliced trying to save orphans or some kind of kriffing stang like that" was as close as the captain ever really got to approval, but Cody figured it still counted. Cody angled his head to the side, trying to see around the AT-TE's right front leg. It was amazing the old girl had made it through the entire battle without blowing; a lucky shot from the droid fort had disabled most of its deflectors. The general's face swung into view, and Cody straightened back into parade rest, arms rigid at his sides. 

General Kenobi stepped down from the AT-TE's foot, and leaned against its leg. He crossed his arms low across his chest, ignoring the tank grease smearing up his blank gauntlets and the droid's arm piston he was using a lever in his left hand. He wrinkled his nose, cracking the dried mud sprayed across his face and into his wispy beard. His funny colored hair stood up in a fan at the back of his head. Cody pressed his hands against his thigh plates. Jedi had different grooming standards, of course, but he couldn't just offer a Jedi a cleanser wipe, it would be...he would wait to be asked. Although, kark, if he'd ever met a man in need of a shower and a shave, it was his new general.

"Expediency in war is sometimes less a matter of practicality than it is opportunity, Commander," the general said. "And I have discovered a quick moving tank to be very opportune."

He grinned, and Cody felt his own mouth twitch. He had very light eyes and Cody could never decide what color they were; that had been rare on Kamino. The general's smile widened and Cody refocused over his shoulder, clearing his throat. Battlefield clean up was still underway, after all, and the 212th needed constant watching or he'd find karking Parjai Squad using a droid's head for a limmie-ball again. 

He heard General Kenobi cough and tap his makeshift crowbar against the AT-TE. Cody looked back at him. The AT-TE's leg joint sparked above their heads. The general turned around; the undershirt beneath his chest plates had been singed to pieces. Cody saw flashes of the palest skin he'd ever seen on a human behind the holes.

"Blasted rotor," the general muttered, staring up at the AT-TE.

"Swung a little too wide, sir?" Cody asked. He paused, and glanced around, but it looked like the sergeants had the men in hand. He carefully slid his feet apart into At Rest, and tucked his hands behind his back. "I noticed you'd hitched a ride on this one during the final push up the hill. Her articulation is a little off during a quick march even in ideal conditions."

Kenobi looked back over his shoulder, with both eyebrows raised. Cody twitched. The general stepped back up onto the AT-TE's foot, and gestured with the droid's arm. He seemed determined not to use the...his Force trick, or whatever it was called to free his weapon. 

"Well," the general said. "They do say timing is everything, Captain. If not for your quick thinking at the blockade, I wouldn't have had a leg to stand on."

Cody snorted. General Kenobi grinned. He disappeared around the other side of the AT-TE, and the clanking resumed. "It was a fine piece of work, Captain Cody. I'll make sure to include it in my report."

Cody cleared his throat, and tightened his grip on his hands. "Sir, thank you sir," he said. He felt his face heat. 

A particularly hard smack of metal against metal rang out. "I admit to a certain overabundance of enthusiasm in this morning's battle," General Kenobi said. "Who knew a lightsaber would fit so neatly into the secondary stabilizing coupling anyway?"

Cody stifled a laugh. Generals were not to be laughed at, for kark's sake. "Guess we live and learn, sir," he said.

He heard Kenobi chuckle as the clanking continued. Cody settled into At Rest by the AT-TE, sinking his feet into the muddy ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 1First line written by urentirelifeisgarbage[return to text]


	2. Commander Cody/CC-2224/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Commander Cody/CC-2224

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tell Me Something (That'll Change Me)

The man sits in the back of the cell, stripped of his stolen shiny white armor down to his body glove, and glares at Cody out of his good left eye. His right is still swollen shut, bruised so deeply black it’s practically indigo. He’s older than any clone Cody’s ever met, barring poor karked 99, by at least a few decades and his skin has that raw scrub that only too many unshielded Kamino storms slapped across his cheeks. He’s thinner, more whipcord than muscle, and except for the scars his makers’ mimicked on his kriffing face. he’s nothing like Cody at all. Not even down to the stang Rivet found when they’d scanned the Fake’s unconscious body in medical. The Fake’s scars are piled on top of each other in places, mostly in clawmarks across his chest and back and a strafing run of pock marks up his right side. They showed signs of kriffing _hand-stitching_ , like whoever made him never heard of a numahumping bacta tank. He had a chip in his head that Rivet took out in case it was a transmitter, but the ugly glop of cells went inert as soon as it was removed.

Cody shifts against the wall opposite the cell, staring through the forceshield at the prisoner. His hands tighten on his Deece as he presses the barrel against his chest. The General had wanted eyes on the Fake at all times; he hadn’t said anything about who Cody chose.

The Fake cocks his head to the side and breathes at him, sitting pretty on the bed attached to the wall in his cell. He doesn’t deserve a bed. Cody hopes to the Force he loses that stanging eye. Maybe the generals will trick him into giving up his makers, and the Fake will be sent back to ‘get better’ under their clearly tender care. The Fake’s jaw clenches, and Cody’s own lips draw back from his teeth. The Sep’s bounty on the generals is high, enough to set a being up for a lifetime long enough to rival Master Yoda, but this–this twisted animal in the cell is a new one for Cody’s files. No one’s ever gotten so close to General Kenobi on his watch, not on the bridge of the general’s own kriffing flagship.

He says his name’s IC-2224.

***

The younger, stupider version of himself has Cody’s old helmet on, but Cody isn’t fooled. The idiot’s been pouting ever since Cody managed to singe his precious general’s uniform. He should’ve remembered the body armor, but stang, not like Cody’s been close to a Jedi in twenty years. He can’t be karked to remember every detail.

He bares his teeth at Younger Him, and crosses his arms. The brothers in the Medbay had stripped him of his armor during their examination, and Cody had been so kriffing off his head on whatever had brought him back to the _Negotiator_ \--back to--everyone--that he’d let them. It’s cold in the cell. He thinks about asking Younger Him for a blanket, but Cody knows himself at that age, more stubborn than a wounded gundark. Younger Him still thinks he knows how the galaxy works. Younger Him still believes in _his_ General. People who try to kill Kenobi don’t get blankets; they get a blaster bolt right between the eyes and then they never have to worry about being cold again. This must be killing Younger Him. Cody almost feels sorry for the idiot; he thinks someone will always be around who cares.

He snorts and rubs his hand underneath his nose, dried blood flakes off on the back of his hand. One of the bridge crew clipped him a good one ‘helping the prisoner off the deck.’ After so many years playing nurse-clone to the burnouts and conscripts the Empire stuffs into armor these days, it’s nice to see he hadn’t been exaggerating how fast his brothers were at their peak. He’d tried to remember the good parts—nothing too illegal, just the 212th before his replacement...before Kashyyyk. 

Cody breathes in carefully, mindful of his sore ribs, as he stretches his back against the wall of his cell. Younger Him squeezes the barrel of his rifle; Cody can practically see him sulking through the matte black of his visor. Poor thing, angry that somebody scratched his precious general, as if Obi-Wan didn’t run off and jump neck-deep in osik every kriffing chance he ever got before Cody shot him down the first time. As it Cody wasn’t doing them— _himself_ —the biggest kriffing favor of their short lives. But no, Obi-Wan always had a Sith’s luck.

Cody frowns.

Kenobi. Not Obi-Wan.

Kenobi.

The door next to his ‘guard’ hisses open and Younger Him stands at attention. Cody swallows and braces himself; it’s probably not— It is.

The General walks in, stiff with that Jedi serenity that makes Cody—that always made him want to poke Kenobi in the ribs. He’s cleaned himself up a bit for the interrogation, even changed clothes. Cody’d forgotten how red his hair was, and the stupid way it gleamed under ship’s lighting. Cody presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth. The General nods at him. Had his eyes always been that color? Cody’s ribs ache. He hadn’t really gotten a good look on the bridge.

He doesn’t now. Kenobi is already turning away, towards _Younger Him_ , and Cody sees his hand touch Younger Him’s elbow. Cody’s on his feet almost before he knows it.

“Are you sure you should be here?” Kenobi asks, and Cody stiffens.

He hasn’t heard that voice in twenty years; that warm way the General has—had—of making it seem like he cared. Like he was only talking to Cody and Cody was the best thing in the entire room. Younger Him turns toward Kenobi, letting him touch. Cody rubs his own elbow; Younger Him probably can't even feel Kenobi's fingers through that armor plating.

“I’m fine, sir,” Younger Him says. “Are you sure you should be out of bed? I mean, Healer Tan-Oshi discharged you?”

Kenobi smiles and Cody bangs on the shield separating him from the room, ignoring the flash of pain in his fist as it rebounds off the polarized field. Younger Him turns, but Kenobi stills him with a hand on his chest, and Cody grinds his teeth. Obi-Wan’s hand is over Younger Him’s heart. When he turns his head to look at Cody, Cody steps back.

“Kriffing Jedi,” he mutters.

“Yes, we’re quite a handful,” Obi—Kenobi says.

“I’ve never had a problem, sir,” Younger Him says, and Cody wants to beat his head against the wall.

“Kriffing Jedi and their batch-bred _lapdogs_ ,” he says loudly.

Younger Him raises his blaster up and again Kenobi stops him. Cody frowns.

“And why would you say that?” Kenobi asks, finally focusing on Cody.

Cody lifts his chin and lets Kenobi take a good long look. He stares Younger Him in the eye.

“Kill him now, kill him later,” he says. “It’s all the same to me.”


	3. Star Trek Fusion - Cody & Obi-Wan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For yellowwallsbluesky on tumblr, and their prompt for the three sentence AU meme

On training days, Old Commander Alpha used to mutter that scandal, starfleet, and Jedi were all the Federation fed on, and that it was the job of the MAKOs to evade the first, elevate the second, and make the third damn well indigestible. He’d also made sure that every brother who passed the citizenship test (imprinted with that lovely holographic ‘guess you have the right to exist’ that an involuntary clone needed to serve the UFP in the first place) knew that the Jedi made everything but that second part difficult. Cody sighed, and bent down to pull Admiral Kenobi out of the flooded Jefferies tube, drenched in recycling water from the tips of his softly pointed ears to the soles of his boots.


End file.
